The wave of support for my neighbor, Harrison Kowiak, and his family, has been HUGE. I wholeheartedly thank you and so does the family. They are already acting upon the tremendous outpouring of information sent in by so many of the Furey Faithful.
As you know I don’t regularly use my email messages for subjects like this – but I do feel that at times you need to stop whatever you are doing and show support for other causes – other than business. And being that I knew the young man personally and spent many precious moments with him, there is no way I can stay mum or not do every thing I can to be of assistance to the family.
When I got up yesterday I received a text message from the Harrison’s father, asking to speak to me live. This is NOT a privilege granted to many people – but I immediately replied and said I would call him after 10 PM EST.
Before making the call I wondered what I could say or do to be of help. What can you really say to console a father and mother who just lost their son. Words can help, no doubt, but when the pain is deep, sometimes they only get in the way.
Ultimately I chose to recall how Harrison listened so attentively when I spoke about success in sports – even in golf – something I am not an expert on. He not only listened to me – but he trusted and believed in what I said. And he took immediate action to correct the mental mistakes he was making – replacing them with powerful new mental pictures of what he wanted.
The turnaround in his game was so dramatic that he wanted to give me the credit. I passed it back to him. He did it – not me.
This was a bit unsettling, so he encouraged me to take up golf with him. I expressed an interest, saying, “I’ve often thought that I would begin learning to golf after the age of 40.”
The next day Harrison, my wife and my son, drove to a Golf Pro store in Tampa. I spent a couple hours looking at clubs and whacking the ball. Harrison encouraged me after the first few whacks – saying, “You’re a natural.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “There’s much to learn.”
After my first lesson, my wife stepped in and said, “When are you going to have time for this. I know you want to play golf – but you’re already committed to so many things. And you don’t do anything half-way. When are you going to do this.”
I looked at her and said, “If I want to do it, I’ll make time.”
Then I thought about it a bit more, turned to Harrison and said, “I think she’s right. I don’t know when I’d be able to practice. I know my nature. If I start on this it won’t just be a leisurely activity. It’ll be totally insane commitment.”
“I can practice with you each day,” said Harrison.
“I know you can. It sounds and looks like a good idea – but let me take more time to consider all the details.”
We left the golf store that afternoon. Harrison was a bit disappointed – but he got over it fast.
On another occasion he dropped by our home in the after noon. He’d been following the exercises in my book, Combat Conditioning and his father encouraged him to get further instruction.
When I opened the door Harrison said one thing, “I’d like you to train me.”
I looked into his eyes for a long time without saying a word.
He stood motionless.
At first.
Then he began shaking with a bit of nervousness.
“Come in,” I said.
We sat on the couch. “If you want to train with me you’ve got to be prepared to eat bitter,” I said.
Harrison nodded.
I took him outside and gave him a workout that kicked his butt. He was still sore three days later.
A few weeks before he left for college he sat with his father in one of my MasterMind meetings. He took copious notes, came up to me on the break and said, “This is awesome. I can’t thank you enough for what you’re teaching. He handed me a book as a gift and wrote a note inside thanking me for what I had taught him BEFORE the seminar.”
I nodded.
At the end of the event Harrison told me how he was going to have his own website soon, and he started telling me all the entrepreneurial ideas spinning in his head.
“You’re a natural,” I said.
“Not yet,” he replied. “We’ll see.”
“Aaah, you listen,” I said. “Very nice. Very nice indeed.”
I will miss seeing Harrison on the physical plane – but as I have often advised to those who’ve lost loved ones – he is still hear – and he’d like you to talk to him.
I spent time talking to him last night – and all I could say were three words. I repeated them over and over. They’re the three most powerful words anyone can ever say to you – or anyone.
I’m betting you can guess what they were.
Whether said silently or out loud – they create more of what we want in this world.
Keep this in mind next time you see your wife, husband, son, daughter, father, mother or friend. Keep it in mind after the last time you see them.
Best,
MJF